‘Plan 75’ review: Chie Hayakawa’s melancholy black mirror
It’s said that the very best near-dystopian dramas are the ones that feel eerily close to the reality we are already existing in, and this is certainly the case for Chie Hayakawa’s directorial debut, Plan 75. Playing out like an episode of Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror but with more emotional nuance and less of a focus on eye-popping visual style, Hayakawa’s first feature film is a clever, introspective gem.
Set in Japan, a country that is ageing faster than any other across the world, with approximately 40% of its population being over 60 years old, Plan 75 outlines a morbid solution to the genuine national problem. The titular plan offers every individual over the age of 75 the opportunity to voluntarily offer themselves up for assisted dying, essentially alleviating the national pressure of the growth of an ageing population.
Understandably, this plan causes quiet discontent within the world of Hayakawa’s Japan, with many protesting the new plan whilst others encourage its existence, working in the procedures admin team as if it were ‘just another office job’. This becomes the destination for two of the film’s three protagonists, with Hiromu (Hayato Isomura) and Maria (Stefanie Arianne) working in opposing sides of the company.
Maria is a newcomer to the company and joins as one of the individuals in charge of looking after the corpses of the deceased, whilst Hiromu works face-to-face with those choosing to take part in the plan, going through each candidate with eerily cold precision. Thankfully for Michi (Chieko Baishô), the film’s third protagonist, she is not assigned to Hiromu, approaching the plan with a great deal of hesitation despite her friends having confidently signed up.
It might all sound a little busy, but despite the intricacy of its concept, Plan 75 is an elegant watch, subtly moving from one perspective to the next with a natural cinematic flow. The plan in subject may seem far-fetched, but Hayakawa does an excellent job of contextualising it within a lived reality, making it an entirely believable practice without any unnecessary bells and whistles reserved for the glitz of Hollywood cinema.
Though on the outside, it may seem as fantastically inviting as an episode of Black Mirror, in actuality, it flows with the same rhythm as the films of Hirokazu Koreeda, save for the latter’s tendency to slip into schmaltzy melodrama. Given a well-rounded view of the central concept, Hayakawa explores the plan with adequate depth thanks to the trio of protagonists, yet it does feel that the true extent of the social controversy could have been probed a little deeper.
Indeed, the reach and controversy of the plan have been sidelined to explore something far more tender at heart, with Hayakawa far more concerned with the humanity and compassion of her characters, with each one going on a journey of self-discovery regarding their own mortality. Each tale organically grows and stretches to a natural conclusion, even if these conclusions don’t hit like the emotional freight train Hayakawa believes they are.
Plan 75 should certainly be considered a success, however, particularly for a debut, with the film departing with an ethereal afterglow, leaving subtle ruminations of melancholy and existential pondering.
Plan 75 is available to purchase at Curzon Home Cinema, right now.
